Chapter 891: Blood Avatar
If you ask me, this Leon Merlin may be a bit of an idiot, but he’s not stupid enough to go against us. He knows full well that if he dares to cross us, he’ll be the first to die. He’s just a young man who only recently broke through to Title Archmage.
Young master, if you’re worried, just wait—I’ll make them keep their distance. Anyway, the last of their strong fighters have already been killed, and there’s barely any defense left in the Black Iron Orc Sacred Land now...
Wagner nodded, a bit uneasy. Before, he hadn’t noticed how strong the other side was and didn’t care—figured it was better to have someone else do the dirty work. But now, realizing their strength wasn’t so weak after all, and with the sacred relic being so important, he couldn’t help but start thinking things over.
Lord Daug swaggered over to Leon’s side, while Wagner, still cautious, ordered his troops to prepare for battle.
Lord Daug strutted into the Merlin Family’s ranks again, barking orders as if he were commanding his own servants.
"Alright, you lot are done here. Our young master Wagner says you’ve worked hard enough—leave the rest of the fighting to us. Go get some rest. When you’re fresh again, we’ll keep attacking the other tribes together."
All those points from the strong fighters went to you, didn’t they? You ought to be satisfied. Remember, it was the George Family that made this deal with you!
There was a hint of threat on Lord Daug’s face as he spoke.
Leon waved his hand with a half-smile, said nothing, and led his people to retreat—falling back more than two kilometers without stopping, then thinking it over and pulling back another two kilometers.
In the distance, Lord Daug returned to the George Family’s ranks with an air of arrogance, reporting to Wagner with a look of utter disdain.
"Young master, you saw it yourself—Leon Merlin is an idiot, he wouldn’t dare defy the George Family’s orders. I told them to fall back, and look, they retreated several kilometers. That’s a show of submission, a gesture of surrender to us. You can relax now."
Let’s hurry up and attack the Sacred Land. As long as we destroy that sacred relic, Radiance Fortress will be easy to take—and we’ll rack up a ton of points, enough to push the George Family’s score into the top three instantly!
Wagner’s earlier worries vanished completely. After all, Leon had pulled everyone back several kilometers, and maybe even farther. At that distance, there was no way for him to try anything sneaky.
"Alright, quick—give the order. Attack the Sacred Land with everything we’ve got. We must destroy that sacred relic as soon as possible."
The George Family surged toward the nearly undefended Black Iron Orc Sacred Land, while, in the distance, Anderfa watched Leon with a puzzled expression.
"Merlin, are you really going to let them destroy that sacred relic? You know, the biggest obstacle to attacking Radiance Fortress is that ancestral blessing. Without that barrier, it’ll be ten times easier to take the fortress. Destroying the relic means a huge amount of points—at least thirty percent of what you could get from attacking Radiance Fortress itself."
Leon just smiled, looking like he was enjoying the show.
"There’s still seventy percent of the points left, isn’t there? Besides, all along, we’ve been the ones taking down the strong enemies. When it comes time to attack Radiance Fortress, the points will definitely be recalculated. It’s not as simple as it looks."
I’m keeping them around precisely so they’ll go destroy that relic. If they want to do it, let them. We have to stick to the agreement, after all."
Leon kept his people far away, while the George Family thought he was just scared of them, worried he might give the wrong impression.
The Black Iron Orcs’ defenses in the Sacred Land were never that strong to begin with. The place was close to Radiance Fortress, surrounded by smaller tribes, and hidden away—the entrance was just an unremarkable little cave in a desolate area. Who would ever expect someone to attack here?
After their two strongest fighters were killed, there was almost no defense left in the Sacred Land. Wagner led the George Family in, charging in like a pack of hungry wolves.
Inside the cave, a narrow passage led dozens of meters inward to the heart of the mountain—a massive hall lined with dozens of towering, rugged pillars. At the center stood a giant demonic altar, upon which floated a demon-faced jar.
Scarlet mist swirled around the jar, which hovered quietly in midair. The heavy aura of Abyssal Demon power spread out, making it feel as if the whole hall had slipped into the abyss itself.
Wagner stared at the jar and burst out laughing. He glanced at the powerless priests left in the hall, then unleashed the aura of an Eighth-Rank Title Archmage. Wrapped in magic, he flew forward, shredding the priests with a dozen wind blades, then hurled a Fireball straight at the jar.
Scarlet flames, trailing like a comet, smashed into the jar. The surrounding red mist, like a startled viper, lashed out wildly, with more and more scarlet energy erupting from the jar like a fountain.
Wagner sneered, pulled out his staff, and rapidly chanted a spell. Instantly, a dozen massive stone pillars shot from the ceiling, crashing down toward the jar.
Faced with such a wild assault, even the demon-faced jar couldn’t hold out. The stone pillars tore through the scarlet mist, driving straight at the jar itself.
In just three seconds, a massive stone pillar—over three meters long—smashed down hard on the jar.
Crack—
A sharp, clear sound rang out. The jar exploded with a boom, and the scarlet mist vanished instantly.
But then, the stench of blood erupted and spread. After the jar shattered, a single drop of purple blood, as large as a fist, floated in midair, swirling madly. Its terrifying aura burst forth, instantly shattering the stone pillars still falling.
Wagner was shocked—he hadn’t expected this at all. Just sensing the aura and seeing the color, he knew it was a drop of Abyssal Demon blood, and from an unbelievably powerful one at that.
Most importantly, the blood rolled and twisted as if it were alive. That meant one thing—the owner of this blood was still alive...
Wagner’s face went pale. Without a second thought, he led the George Family in a panicked dash for the exit.
But the horror had already begun—the massive cave started to collapse, and an aura far beyond Title Archmage exploded from the depths of the hall.
Where the jar had exploded, endless scarlet mist gathered and, in an instant, transformed into a huge, man-sized portal of light.
Endless black smoke and scarlet mist swirled around the portal, while the abyssal stench of sulfur poured out in a storm, shredding through the entire cave.
Wagner’s face turned deathly pale. He realized it was an Abyssal Gate, and through the portal, he could see a towering Abyssal Demon’s shadow. The demon’s eyes burned with flame, sweeping over them with the cold indifference of someone glancing at ants.
Just that casual glance—through the Abyssal Gate, no less—made Wagner feel like his soul was about to shatter. His body froze, unable to move.
Damn it, an Abyssal Demon Lord!
Damn those Black Iron Orc ancestors—the source of their Abyssal Demon bloodline. Damn it, their ancestor is actually still alive!
Just then, the swirling drop of blood suddenly swelled, twisting into the shape of a demon, then slowly solidifying into a massive, blood-red Abyssal Demon dozens of meters tall.
Wagner’s face went completely green. Seeing that entirely blood-red Abyssal Demon only confirmed his worst fears.
The jar itself wasn’t really the sacred relic—the drop of Abyssal Demon blood inside was the true relic. That single drop of blood belonged to an Abyssal Demon, and now, with the Abyssal Gate opened, its will could descend here.
That single drop of blood was enough to create a Blood Avatar.
Only an Abyssal Demon Lord could create a Blood Avatar...
A Demon Lord standing at the pinnacle of abyssal power—even their most ordinary Blood Avatar would have enough strength to crush all Title Archmages!
Moreover, even a slightly stronger Blood Avatar would make short work of a Sky Rank mage who’s not at the top of their game… Not that I’d volunteer to test the theory. Leon’s thoughts flicker with grim amusement, watching the carnage unfold.
The moment the Blood Avatar appeared, its eyes burned with blood-red fire as it fixed the George Family’s army with a look that promised nothing but annihilation. Wagner’s heart skipped a beat—was this what Leon Merlin had been waiting for? The Avatar’s arms swept wide, unleashing a crimson storm, saturated with abyssal magic, that roared through the cavern, making Wagner wonder if his family’s ambitions had just summoned their doom.
Rumble—
Amid the deafening roar, thick cracks spiderwebbed across the cave walls, and countless fragments, suppressed by the Blood Avatar’s magic, floated eerily in midair. Leon’s lips curled in a sardonic smile—nature itself seemed to cower before abyssal power.
Boom—
With a thunderous explosion, the entire cavern blew apart. A flood of blood-red energy erupted like a volcanic blast, tearing through the mountain’s heart. From outside, it looked as if the whole peak had suddenly exploded, with the crimson torrent and shattered rocks shooting straight up toward the clouds. Wagner could only gape, his bravado drowned by the sheer violence of the scene—so much for a clean victory.
A towering Blood Demon, dozens of meters high, clawed its way out from the blasted mountainside, its eyes ablaze with bloody fire, locking onto the panicked crowd fleeing the cave. Leon watched, a cold calculation in his gaze—every rival’s terror was another move on the board.
The Blood Demon swung its arms, unleashing endless abyssal runes that shimmered along its limbs. Instantly, the sky darkened; black clouds engulfed the land for kilometers around, and blood-red lightning slithered like serpents through the gloom. Wagner muttered, half in awe, half in fear: “Next time, someone else can break the demon jar…”
Enormous meteors, wreathed in flames and trailing long tails of black smoke, plummeted from the storm clouds, savagely crashing into the ground below. Leon’s mind raced—how many would survive the next few breaths? In moments like these, even fate seemed to hold its breath.